THE SPEECH OF MONKEYS.
Mr. Garner’sclaim to have gained a clue to a form of language understood by monkeys for a short time excited more interest than any subject of natural history in recent years. It was based on such ingenious experiments, including the practical use of such an invention as the phonograph, and was based on methods so pleasing to the scientific mind, that there seemed more than a probability that he was on the verge of a great discovery. On the other hand, men like the keepers of the monkeys in the Zoological Gardens, who have a special and practical knowledge of the subject, refused for a moment to entertain the idea, either that there was a universal “Simian tongue,” or even one which was common to more than the members of a single class. In his book on the “Speech of Monkeys,”[12]he gives in a complete form the result of the ingenious inquiries, the first instalment of which roused such curiosity when published in theNew Review. Every one who read the story of the cleverexperiments made by the aid of the phonograph, which caught, and reproduced when required, the characteristic tones of monkey chatter, will be anxious to learn whether the increase in the numbers and variety of the experiments recorded strengthened or weakened the conclusions which Mr. Garner first formed. With one important modification, he is still confident that he has obtained evidence, not only of the existence of a form of speech current between monkeys, but of the meaning and modifications of some of the sounds in use. The exception is one which would occur to most minds on reading the evidence, if not from natural probability. He no longer claims for monkeys any one speech common to all races, a universal “Simian tongue,” which if it existed would argue a greater uniformity among the diversities of monkey structure than exists among the uniformity of human physique. The experiments on which Mr. Garner based his conclusion, that there is a common “Simian tongue,” was no doubt difficult to explain on any other supposition, for having obtained on his phonograph a record of the sounds made by two chimpanzees, he found that a note which he translated to mean “milk,” but which he subsequently took to stand for “food” in general, was used by the Capuchin monkey in apparently the same sense. He now believes that the sounds are only understood by members of the same species. This admission agrees with the views of the keepers, who maintain that the cries and exclamations of different species of monkey, when expressing theordinary emotions of fear or pleasure, offer no sort of resemblance, and scout the notion of a common “Simian tongue.”
12.The Speech of Monkeys, by R. Garner. London: Heinemann.
12.The Speech of Monkeys, by R. Garner. London: Heinemann.
Arabian Baboon.From a photograph by Gambier Bolton.
Arabian Baboon.From a photograph by Gambier Bolton.
Arabian Baboon.From a photograph by Gambier Bolton.
The fact of the interpretation of the chimpanzee’s note by the Capuchin, can perhaps be explained without throwing doubt upon the whole theory. Monkeys in captivity do learn occasionally the notes of another species, not as mere mimics, but with the meaning which the other naturally attaches to the sounds.
“The most remarkable case,” writes Mr. Garner, “which has come under my notice, is one in which a young white-faced monkey has acquired the sound which means ‘food’ in the Capuchin tongue. This event occurred under my own eyes, attended by such conditions as showed that the monkey had a motive for learning the sound. In the room in which the monkeys were kept by a dealer in Washington, there was a cage which contained a young white-faced cebus, of more than average intelligence. He was a quiet, sedate, and thoughtful little monkey, whose grey hair and beard gave him quite a venerable aspect, and for this reason I called him ‘Darwin.’ From some cause unknown to me, he was afraid of me, and I showed him but little attention. On the same shelf, and in an adjacent cage, lived the little Capuchin ‘Puck.’ For some weeks I visited ‘Puck’ almost daily, and inresponse to his sound for food, I always supplied him with nuts or bananas. I never gave him any of these things to eat unless he would ask for them in his own speech. On one of my visits, my attention wasattracted by little ‘Darwin,’ who was uttering a strange sound, which I had never before heard one of his species use. I did not recognize the sound at first, but very soon discovered that it was intended to imitate the sound of the Capuchin, in response to which I always gave ‘Puck’ a nice morsel of food. After this I always gave him some in acknowledgment of his efforts, and I observed from day to day that he improved in making this sound, until at last it could scarcely be distinguished from that made by the Capuchin.”
This may explain the mistake as to the “Simian tongue.” Professor Garner also wishes to get rid of the notion that monkeys can carry on a connected conversation. “Their speech is usually limited to a single sound or remark, which is replied to in the same manner.” What Mr. Garner now claims for monkeys’ speech is, that it is voluntary, deliberate, and articulate; that the sounds are always addressed to some certain individual with the evident purpose of having them understood, and that they wait for, and expect an answer, and if they do not receive one, frequently repeat the sounds, which they do not utter when alone. He further finds that they understand the sounds made by other monkeys of their own kind, and usually respond to them with a like sound, and that thesound is interpreted to mean the same thing, and obeyed in the same manner by different monkeys of the same species. The words which we have placed in italics are, of course, the most important part of the conclusion.But much, if not the whole value which they bear, must depend not only on the certainty that “their sounds convey a fixed idea on a given subject from one mind to another,” but also on the assurance that these sounds are sufficiently numerous and definite in meaning not to come under the same head as mere exclamations of alarm, or pleasure, which form part of the usual utterance of so many animals. A cat, for instance, shows pleasure by sound,—that is, by purring; displeasure or fear by sound,—that is, by growling and spitting; and desire by sound,—that is, by mewing; and if all that Professor Garner had to show was that monkeys had something equivalent, or rather more than equivalent, to a cat’s purring, growling, or mewing, there would be nothing very remarkable in the fact, though the extreme ingenuity and patient attention which he has exhibited in making his experiments must always lend these a subordinate and secondary interest of their own. But he rightly excludes mere sounds of emotion from the faculty of “speech,” such as he claims for monkeys. “Speech,” he says, “is that form of materialized thought which is confined to oral sounds, when they are designed to convey a definite idea from mind to mind;” and “sounds which only express emotion are not speech.” It is, therefore, not sufficient for Professor Garner to show that the sounds which he has so carefully observed and noted are understood by his monkeys, he has also to show that they are distinct from mere expressions of emotion. The fuller experiments,from which he now writes, do not tend to clear away this difficulty.
The Capuchins, which are alike the most voluble and the cleverest of the smaller monkeys, have a sound which Professor Garner first translated as “food,” but to which he subsequently found he must attach a wider meaning. He now thinks that when modulated in one way the sound means a certain kind of food, and when modulated in another, it means “give,” or “give me that.” By repeating it to a Capuchin, he often induced it to hand over a part of its food, or some plaything. But it would be possible to infer from this that the sound was a mere expression of desire, and not really different from the mewing of a cat when it wants its kittens returned, or a door opened. The word for “drink” he still considers to be distinct from that expressing “food,” and fixed alike in form and meaning. The sound which he took to mean “weather,” because uttered by a sick monkey when a storm burst, has now resolved itself into a general expression of discontent. The alarm sound is dual, one form, “e-c-g-k,” expressing fear, another, “c-h-i,” merely calling attention. But some animals, such as the elephant, have more than one “warning sound,” and warning sounds in themselves do not constitute “speech”; nor does the fact that the Professor has been able to reproduce and get replies to the “food sound” of the rhesus and cebus monkeys prove more than that he has been a clever and careful observer of a particular exclamation. He thinks,however, that there is a sound meaning “monkey,” because this is uttered when one meets another, or is shown its image in a mirror after solitary confinement; and he finds that the shake of the head, by which monkeys, like men, signify “no,” is also accompanied by a clucking sound, which he takes for a negation. But even if the results of his later experiments are less fruitful than might have been anticipated, Professor Garner has still good reasons for hope. The phonograph, which alone made it possible to conduct his inquiry with scientific accuracy, promises to give aid in a new and unexpected quarter. The same invention which has rendered possible a permanent record of sound, and its reproduction at will, also facilitates its analysis or synthesis. One of the main difficulties for the human ear in dealing with monkey speech, is its extreme rapidity, and the possibility of modulations existing which are to us inaudible, but are perfectly distinct to the acute Simian perception. By recording the monkey notes on the drum, and then spinning the machine at a slow rate, the sounds are analyzed, and modulations detected, and in a way hitherto impossible. Much is hoped from such analysis of the main “words” of monkey speech, which seem now to have different meanings, though the vocal difference is indistinguishable. Professor Garner pins his faith to the obvious fact that monkeys, like men, have tongues, teeth, lips, and all the organs of speech; that they use the organs, and that there is at least a probability that a distinction is attached by them tomany sounds in which no difference is detected by our ears. He deserves every success in his new experiments, though the effect of the latest has been to diminish rather than to increase the range of the monkey vocabulary.
The later experiments with the larger anthropoid apes, from whose deliberate utterances better results might be expected than from the volatile chatter of the small monkeys, do not seem to have given much additional information. Mr. Garner’s expedition to Western Africa, in the hope of inducing wild monkeys to answer the sounds which he had succeeded in learning from the tame ones, ended as such an enterprise might have been expected to end—in failure. Perhaps the whole inquiry may lead to the conclusion that we know no more now of monkey speech than we did before. But in any case it was a hopeful and ingenious experiment, and without boldness and enterprise fresh knowledge comes slowly.